Whirlwind
by a0novel0idea
Summary: Viktor has been pen pals with Charlotte for years, and with the upcoming Tri-Wizard Tournament, he might just get the chance to meet her face to face. The only problem is that Charlotte knows him as just Viktor, not Viktor Krum, world famous seeker.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This is a rewrite of _"Only A Day"_ , published on my other, inactive account 'WhyIsARavenLikeAWritingDesk'. Updates are planned for every Sunday. Best.

* * *

 _August 7th_

 _Dear Viktor,_

 _It's been weeks since we've written. I know it is just as much my fault. How are you? I hope you're doing well. How is your family? Has your schoolwork kept you from seeing them recently?_

 _I understand if you are busy; things have been hectic here in London with the closing of our summer production of 'Romeo & Juliet'. This fall the London Theatre Company has decided to take a break, but in the spring we have decided to do a muggle opera titled 'The Phantom of the Opera'. It is a story told by a young woman in love with two men, a pronounced member of society, and a man who hides himself from others, skulking through the bowels of the opera house to hide his disfigured appearance. I have seen the muggle production many times, and hope our rendition will be as splendid. _

_Wishing you are well,_  
 _Charlotte_

She signed the letter with her usual flourish, and lay the parchment on her desk to dry. Her barn owl, Deek, shuffled back and forth on his perch, as if anxious to dive out into the humid August air. Hoping the ink was dry, and too impatient to wait any longer, Charlotte folded the letter until it could fit in an envelope small enough for Deek to carry, sealed it with a silver colored wax, and charmed it against any weather that could smudge her words. Deek shuffled again, ruffling his own feathers, and Charlotte gave him a quick scratch under the beak before handing him the letter and telling him who it was for.

She stood at her bedroom window for several moments, watching the bid disappear east into the darkness. A flair of disappointment clogged the back of her throat before she swallowed it down; she never should have allowed her correspondence with Viktor to fall off. After five years, and hundreds of letters, Charlotte still felt that sometimes Viktor was the only one that could understand what she was trying to say. Viktor knew Charlotte with an intimacy that was not afforded to others, and, in turn, Charlotte liked to think she knew Viktor.

"Charlotte? Dear, supper is ready," called a soft voice from downstairs.

Charlotte turned away from her window, and made to leave her room, stopping again at her desk to stopper her ink well, and quickly clean the nib on her quill.

* * *

 _August 8th_

 _Charlotte,_

 _I apologize for my absence. Things in Sofia had been terribly busy as well, though not for as exciting a reason as your summer performances. Durmstrang recalled all students a week earlier than we expected, and as such, I have not seen my parents in several weeks, but I have been assured that all is well at home. Our headmaster seems to have gone, for lack of a better term, insane, but with no higher authority to intervene, those of us here must follow along._

 _In light of school and other obligations, I am not doing well. I am sleepless well into the night, and I do not sleep for many hours at a time. If I had the sense, I could have spent those hours writing to you, but I have been distracted._

 _As for your auditions, you will do very well, I have no doubt. You do plan to audition, yes? I have never had the pleasure of hearing your voice, but if you sing as lovely as you write, you must be very talented. The opera you have mentioned sounds like something you will greatly enjoy. If you find the nerves too much, step back, close your eyes, and list why you would miss doing what you love most. It has always helped me._

 _Viktor_

Viktor rolled the parchment into a protective dragon hide case, and tied the sleeve to Charlotte's owl, Deek. Feeding both Deek, and how own hawk, Orion, a small handful of treats, he opened his window and let both birds out into the night.

* * *

Charlotte was surprised out of her concentration after several hours of quiet by a tapping at her window. It was well after midnight, but she had been diligently making her way though a new book of muggle poetry she had spotted at the store. Deek hooted impatiently as she thumbed the lock on the window to let him in. She held out her arm for him, and was relieved when she recognized Viktor's dragon hide case tied to the barn owl's foot.

"Good job," Charlotte whispered to him, setting him on his perch and refilling his food dish.

She twisted the top off and settled back at her desk to read Viktor's response. Her heart eased at his quick response, but tightened again as she read his words. She knew that Viktor was still in school, as Durmstrang kept their students a year longer than Hogwarts, and she knew he had some kind of obligation that he traveled for, but what that obligation was, Charlotte was never sure; it was never anything he wanted to talk about. In fact, he always seemed relieved when she did not press him for answers. Whatever he did, he would share with her when he wanted to, and she would be satisfied with his letters until then.

Picking up her quill, and unstoppering her ink well caused an obnoxious squawk from Deek.

"I'm not sending this tonight," Charlotte assured the owl. "It's far too late for polite correspondence. You can go around lunch time."

Seemingly placated with his master's reply, Deek's feathers smoothed out and he settled in for a good night's sleep after such a long trek across Europe.

* * *

 _August 7th_

 _Dear Viktor,_

 _It troubles me to hear you are in such a situation. Is there no one in the various governments between you and I that would intervene on behalf of the students? And while you know I do not mind the letters, you know I welcome them, I do not want them to come at the cost of your health. There is no need to avoid the occasional sleeping potion._

 _As to your question: yes, I do plan to audition._

 _To add to the frustrations of auditions, Hogwarts has sent us a letter explaining that things will be a little different this year, but they have not seen fit to give us a reason. And still, tensions continue to rise in London concerning the Ministry and the Quidditch World Cup. Threats have been issued, though so far they seem to be idle, and they have placed a dark cloud over what is usually a much more rambunctious event. Despite having no real interest in the sport, I would like to attend, just to experience it just once. You've mentioned Quidditch many time; would you mind explaining the basics to me?_

 _Wishing you a good night's sleep,_  
 _Charlotte_

* * *

 _August 9th_

 _Charlotte,_

 _Quidditch? This is your question? It is a strange one to hear from you, but my best answer would be to recommend a book. 'Quidditch Through the Ages' is a very informative book for a beginner. It will explain the history of the game, as well as rules and regulations, and what is happening in the sport now. If you have any questions after that, I will be happy to answer them._

 _It is very lonely here, and often your letters are the only bright spot in a day. When I am not at school, attending to other obligations, I am the youngest involved by seven years, I believe. It is difficult, being in school, then being grouped with an older crowd and having the expectation placed upon you that you must be able to fit into both._

 _As you are concerned with my health, I think I have found a way to improve. I would like you to join me at the Quidditch World Cup. I've send your ticket with this letter. I hope you agree._

 _Viktor_

* * *

To say Viktor was nervous when Charlotte's owl swooped into his family's kitchen in the late afternoon would be to downplay the knot in his stomach. He took the letter from Deek, and thanked the owl before carefully peeling the wax from the parchment.

 _August 10th_

 _Viktor,_

 _It would be my pleasure to attend the Quidditch World Cup with you! It will be wonderful to see a professional game, and have your opinions on it as well. I look forward to seeing you soon._

 _Charlotte_

Viktor had not been so pleased in a very long time.

* * *

At the moment Viktor spotted Deek huddled and drying by his family's fireplace, he knew the letter the owl brought with him would not be a good one. He was home to see his parents for the first time in what felt like months, and it had been storming continuously since he had arrived. Deek was soaked through his feathers, several shades darker than his normal tree-bark brown, and Viktor knew the bird could not have been happy.

The letter Deek had carried was dry due to the charm Charlotte never failed to apply to the parchment, but when he opened it there were several smudged spots that, as they could not have been made by the rain, must have been made by Charlotte herself.

 _August 16th_

 _Dear Viktor,_

 _I regret to inform you that I will be unable to attend the Quidditch World Cup with you, even as much as I wish to. My grandfather has passed away in the night, and as you know he was my only living relative. As I am still a few months shy of being of age, I am to remain a ward of the Ministry of Magic until I am able to inherit his accounts. I have been able to make arrangements to withdraw a small amount to prepare myself for school in the coming month, but am unable to leave the custody of a Ministry official, much less the country, unit l turn seventeen._

 _Please forgive me for being unable to attend,_  
 _Charlotte_

* * *

Daniela Krum did not often get to see her son between school, and his Quidditch practices, but she knew when he was sad. Viktor had a presence that could fill a home with warmth and comfort, but could just as easily suffocate and depress. When the owl had shown up, attempting to hide from the storm under the lattice, she knew he could not bring good news. This was confirmed when Viktor told her of his friend's grandfather's passing, and that she was grieving, and he would be unable to be there for her in person. Daniela would also suspect that he had stoked the fire under his hope of finally meeting this young woman, and that he was just as disappointed that she would miss the Cup.

* * *

 _August 16th_

 _Charlotte,_

 _Do not trouble yourself with me. Deal with what you must. Though the Cup will not be as enjoyable without your presence, there is no forgiveness to be had. You are needed in London to watch over your grandfather. I stress that anything you may need will be given if only you ask, and please do not hesitate from doing so. I am happy to give anything I can._

 _Though I did not know your grandfather, he had to have been a remarkable man to have raised such a remarkable young woman. You told me once that it was he who turned you to the arts in the wake of your parents passing, so my only advice would be to honor him, and turn your passion for the art into something he would be proud of._

 _Please know that my heart lies with you until you no longer need it, and, even so, after._

 _Viktor_

* * *

 _August 25th_

 _Viktor,_

 _I'm still sorry we couldn't meet at the Cup. I think it would have been interesting to meet you in such a setting. When the times comes that we do meet, I'm afraid I've worked myself into a little bit of a nervous knot. I've poured my heart into some of these letters, and I can't imagine that I will live up to what I've written. Sometimes I imagine that the person I am to you is someone altogether different from how anyone else sees me. I can only hope that when we do meet face to face, you will not be disappointed._

 _My grandfather's estate has been squared away, and I am set to inherit all properties, accounts, and holdings upon my seventeenth birthday in November. I've been allowed the money to continue at Hogwarts this September. I cannot thank you enough for your support. It means more to me than I know how to write._

 _Hoping to see you soon,_  
 _Charlotte_

* * *

 _August 27th_

 _Charlotte Adele,_

 _You could never be anything less than beautiful to me. Whether you are uncomfortable speaking and we pass notes for the rest of our friendship, I will be happy. I have every letter you have ever written to me, even the first one. Do you remember that one? The first time you ever wrote to me was by accident. You sent a letter with your owl, and instructed him to drop it in the sea. He went wrong way, confused by dark skies and stormy winds. Deek ended up taking shelter in my family's house, and I got your letter. You did not know who I was an I did not know who you were. But that changed. Looking back, I see nothing but the thoughts and wishes and words of a mind deeper than the ones that surround me._

 _Your expression of worry towards our future meeting have made my own surface. I do not know how you have pictured me, if you have done so at all, and I do not know what you expect, but I fear I will not live up to expectation either._

 _Viktor_

* * *

 _August 28th_

 _Dear Viktor,_

 _I do remember that first letter. I had written down everything that had gone right and wrong in the last few months of my life because I had no one to tell, and I sent it off with Deek. I was so worried when the storm swooped in and he didn't return home as quickly as he should have! And you were so embarrassed, having read what was a rather personal letter, but you wrote me back to apologize. Truthfully, I didn't know what to think of Deek appearing with a letter that hadn't been meant for any one, but not a day has gone by that I've regretted the mix up. Not a day goes by that I regret writing you again. Now it's been five years, and you know me, and I know you._

 _Charlotte_

* * *

 _August 29th_

 _Charlotte,_

 _Our headmaster at Durmstrang has announced to the school that Hogwarts will be hosting the Tri-Wizard Tournament this year, and that both we and the French school, Beauxbatons, have been invited to attend and compete. It seems this is what your own headmaster meant when he informed students that things would be different. It also seems that we will be able to meet without much effort on our own parts._

 _We will arrive on October 30th, and we have been instructed to bring our dress uniforms as Hogwarts will be hosting a Halloween Ball on the night of the 31st. Our headmaster has only conceded to masks, not full costumes. It may be rash to ask you in a letter, but would you meet me for the ball? I do believe I'd very much like to dance with you._

 _Yours,_  
 _Viktor_

* * *

 _September 1st_

 _Dear Viktor,_

 _Please excuse the shaky penmanship; Hogwarts students arrive by train, and it is never a smooth trip. Thank you for warning me of the Tournament and the Ball. I don't think I will enjoy much of either, what with the death count afforded to the Tournament, and my inability to dance, but it would be my pleasure to accompany you on Halloween night._

 _Wishing for Halloween,_  
 _Charlotte_

Charlotte flinched as the train rocked more violently than usual before settling back into her seat to wait for the ink to dry. She had gotten Viktor's letter and invitation to the Halloween Ball two days prior, but had been so busy making sure she had packed everything for school, she packed the letter along with her stationary and quills. It had taken her the first hour of the train ride to find the letter, and another fretting over finally meeting him before she could pen a reply.

Ada, Charlotte's best friend, sat across from her, frantically attempting to finish the homework she had been assigned at the beginning of the summer. She had been sorted into Gryffindor, Charlotte herself in Ravenclaw, and generally lived up to the stereotype. She had brown hair and hazel eyes, and stood a few inches shorter than Charlotte. Despite her reluctance to do so, Ada had accepted the prefect's duties Professor McGonagall had assigned her, and now had to scramble to finish her work in order to walk her rounds and check on the first years.

"That a letter for what's his name?" Ada asked, glancing up from her potion's essay.

"His name is Viktor," Charlotte said, "and, yes."

"Has he proposed yet?" she asked teasingly.

"Ha ha," Charlotte said mockingly, folding the parchment and charming it against the weather.

"You write to him more than you write to everyone else combined. What am I supposed to think?"

"We haven't even met face to face yet," Charlotte said.

" _Yet_ ," Ada stresses. "Forget what's his name. Have you picked your piece for your audition yet? Who are you auditioning for?"

"Yes, I've picked my arrangement. And, um, Christine. She's the, uh, main character."

"That's good!" Ada congratulated her. "That's great! Charlie, you've never gone after a lead role before. I'm so proud of you!"

"It's not that big of a deal," Charlotte muttered.

"Yes, it is. When are auditions?"

"Beginning of December. I'm going to be so busy I don't know how I'm going to deal with it all."

"Deal with what all? What else is going on?"

Charlotte seized her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from spilling the news. At the silence, Ada looked up from her parchment again.

"What?" she asks. "What aren't you telling me?"

"I don't think I'm supposed to know," Charlotte admitted. "Viktor wrote and told me that Hogwarts is going to be hosting the Tri-Wizard Tournament this year, and that Durmstrang, and the French school Beauxbatons, have been invited to attend and compete. That's why we all got the letter that things would be a little different this year."

Ada blinked once.

"Also, uh, a Halloween Ball, a few nights after the other schools arrive."

"Doesn't what's his name attend Durmstrang?"

"Viktor."

"Yes. Viktor. Doesn't he go there?"

"Yes."

"So, he's coming to Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"And you're finally going to meet?"

"Yes."

"Finally!" Ada said, throwing her hands in the air. "I have been waiting for this moment forever!"

"You what?" Charlotte asked. "What does it matter to you if we've met?"

"It'll make you happy," Ada said. "That's why it matters to me."

Charlotte rolled her eyes, but was hard pressed to keep to keep the smile from her face.

"Come here, and let me braid that hair," she said, tucking her parchment away in her school bag.

"Shouldn't we change first?"

"If you insist."

They both rose from their seats, Ada pulling down their trunks as Charlotte pulled the blinds on their carriage door. After both had changed into their respective house robes, Charlotte took a seat on the floor in front of Ada's legs, and unclipped her hair, letting it fall in tangled waves down her back.

"So tell me what else has been said this summer," Ada demanded, easing tangles and knots before she started braiding.

"Viktor invited me to the Quidditch World Cup."

"Are you serious?" the Gryffindor asked, fingers pausing in Charlotte's hair.

"Yeah. He sent me a ticket and everything."

"Well, what did you tell him?"

"I said yes," Charlotte said quietly, "but then..."

"But then Grandfather Atticus passed away," Ada said solemnly.

Charlotte nodded.

"How did he take that news?"

"He said that the Cup wouldn't be as enjoyable without me, but that he understood that my grandfather was my only family, and that I needed to be there for him. And he offered any help I could think of, if only I'd ask."

"Sounds like a real gentleman, than one does." Ada's fingers pause again. "Let's not go and fall in love with this boy until you meet him, okay? I don't want you getting your heart broke."

"I'll try, Ada, but I can't make any promises."


	2. Chapter 2

The trek to the castle was not nearly as pleasant as it should have been. First, Charlotte was separated from Ada, who's duty was to help take the first years to the castle by boat; Charlotte ended up riding in a carriage full of rambunctious second years. Then she nearly ran head first into Professor Snape, earning her a black mark in the man's book not half an hour off the train. She spent as long as she could looking for Deek, whom she had sent to Viktor with her latest letter, but he had yet to return. This caused her to be one of the last student to the Great Hall, where the only seat left was next to Cho Chang and her group of friends. Charlotte had never had an issue with Cho or her friends, but neither had they sought each other out.

When the puddings had finally been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, Hogwarts's Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, got to his feet. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you the list of objects forbidden in the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Banishing Boomerangs. The full list comprises of some four hundred and seven items, I believe, and can be views in Mr. Filches office should anybody like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

Charlotte heard someone from the Gryffindor table shout, " _What?_ "

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teacher's time and energy – but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts – "

But at that moment there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. A stranger came forward, carried by a real leg and an artificial one that clunked every time the man put weight on it to step forward. As he reached the teacher's table at the front of the Hall, he reached out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, mumbling words no one could hear. Dumbledore gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the teachers or students clapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were transfixed on Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the remaining months, an event that has not been held in over a hundred years. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Tri-Wizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said one of the Weasley twins loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley,"he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag and a leprechaun who all go into a bar…"

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er – but maybe this is not the time… no…" said Dumbledore, "Where was I? Ah, yes, the Tri-Wizard Tournament… well some of you will not know what this tournament involves so I hope those who do know will forgive me forgiving a short explanation, and allow their attentions to wander freely.

"The Tri-Wizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities – until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which have been very successful. However, our own Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided that the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their shortlist contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at a Halloween Ball at the stroke of midnight. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Tri-Wizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

Charlotte turned and tried to find Ada at the Gryffindor table, but was unable to see over the heads of the other students. The thought of Viktor entering the Tournament was horrifying enough; she didn't know what she would do if Ada entered as well. What if they were both chosen?

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Tri-Wizard Cup to Hogwarts," Dumbledore's voice rose over the tittering that had broken out amongst the students, "the Heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only student who are of age – that is to say, seventeen years or older – will be allowed to put forth their names for consideration. This –" Dumbledore had to raise his voice to a near-shout, as the entire Hall, it seemed, began to voice their disagreement with the decision out loud, "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the Tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students under seventh and sixth year will be able to cope with them.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving on October 30th and will remain with us for the greater part of this year. I know that all of you will extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is for you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

* * *

Charlotte was unable to find Ada before curfew, so she made her way to the north corner of the castle and the Ravenclaw common room. Up five stories of winding staircases, dodging through clumps of other Ravenclaw students that had stopped to chat and catch up, she finally came upon the large, arched door that lead to her dorms. Pulling back the brass knocker shaped like an eagle, she knocked it once. The eagle came to attention and said,

"The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?"

"Footsteps," Charlotte answered.

"Enter."

The door swung open to reveal a large, round room with high vaulted ceilings painted with the night sky, and constellations that changed with the seasons. The carpet was a deep blue that echoed the ceiling. Blue and bronze tapestries hung on the walls and were illuminated by the morning sun when it rose through vaulted windows that reached the ceiling. Several students were already relaxing, huddled together in groups, discussing their summers and the upcoming school year. The most popular topic, as far as Charlotte could tell without stopping to become part of a conversation, was the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

As she ascended yet another set of stairs, Charlotte couldn't help but wonder who would be chosen for each school, and what kinds of challenges they would face. These were the stressing thoughts that followed her into her bedroom, and lingered as she changed out of her robes and into a large sleep shirt. Her trunk, already placed at the end of her bed, held tomorrow's clean uniform and the books she would need for her classes. Deek's cage had been placed on her bedside table, and the sheets on her bed were fresh.

Climbing underneath her bed covers, Charlotte drew the curtains around her bed and cast a silencing charm to keep the noise of other students away. She lay back on her pillows, closed her eyes, and wished for sleep to come.

* * *

 _Friday, September 2nd_

The next morning, Charlotte woke early, showered, dressed, and headed down for breakfast. Most of the students who were already awake, were slow and sleepy, trudging to their tables to await the delivery of their schedules. Charlotte helped herself to the toast and jam that was already on the table and hoped that her owl would reappear with today's delivery of mail. After about fifteen minutes of waiting, Professor Flitwick, her head of house, stepped into the Great Hall with a rather large stack of parchment in his hands.

"Good morning, Ms. Wright," the small man squeaked.

"Good morning, Professor."

"Here's your schedule for the year," he said, handing her a schedule from the bottom of the stack. Charlotte took it, and went to return to her breakfast, but Professor Flitwick stopped her with a soft touch to the back of her hand.

"Professor?"

"My condolences, Ms. Wright. Should you need anything, please let me know."

"Thank you, Professor," Charlotte said quietly.

She set her toast to the side, and was quiet until Ada found her twenty minutes later.

"Good morning, Charlie," she said, sitting on the bench at the Ravenclaw table.

"Hey. Where were you last night?"

"I caught two second years trying to sneak out to see the giant squid in the lake. I had to take them to McGonagall. By the time she was done scolding them, we were all late for curfew."

"Detentions on the first night," Charlotte laughed.

"Detentions with Filch," Ada said in a tone that said she pitied the two that got caught.

"May Merlin have mercy on their souls. Have you gotten your schedule yet?"

"Yeah. What do you have this morning?"

"Double Potions, then Transfiguration."

"That's it? That's all you have on Fridays?"

"Yep."

"I have a full day, plus Astronomy from eight to midnight. You have it so easy this year!"

"If you had done a little more work last year, _like I told you to_ , you wouldn't have such a full schedule this year."

"Bah," Ada scoffed.

"Besides, every moment not doing school work, I'll end up practicing for auditions."

"Oh, okay," Ada said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Ada grinned and faked a cough into her fist, " _Viktor_."

"Shove it," Charlotte said, hitting Ada on the shoulder.

Both girls dissolved into giggles that lasted until the horde of owls that served the school and belonged to students began to sweep into the Hall though the high windows. Charlotte searched the room for her own owl, who had still yet to appear, and almost missed a familiar goshawk as it cut its wings to spiral down and land on her shoulder. The large bird earned Charlotte several odd looks, especially from those who knew she owned a rather grumpy barn owl. Crumbling up a piece of sausage, Charlotte fed it to Orion as she untied the dragon hide case from his talon.

 _Charlotte,_

 _I do not mean to alarm you, but Deek was attacked by something as he delivered your last letter. He is alive, and I have asked our school's healer to take a look at his injuries. I do not know how long it will be until he can return to you, but I will bring him to you if he cannot fly by the time we begin our trek to Hogwarts._

 _It pleases me that you will join me on Halloween. I am very much looking forward to it. The shortlist for attendees has been finalized, though there was not much chance of failing to make the cut. Several of my friends are looking forward to it as well, and have expressed interest in seeing how things are done at Hogwarts. Hopefully, we will be more well received that if you were visiting Durmstrang. It has long been a hostile place._

 _Yours,_

 _Viktor_

* * *

Charlotte could hardly pay attention through her first Potions class of the year, though they did nothing more complicated than refresh their memories of things learns years previous. She sat next to a quiet Hufflepuff boy, Zander, she thought his name was, but he didn't attempt to make conversation, and that was fine with her.

By the time Potions was over, and Charlotte had made it to her Transfiguration hour, she wasn't even attempting to keep up the facade of paying attention. She quickly jotted down the answers to the questions Professor McGonagall had assigned as the first day's work, then pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment to begin a new letter to Viktor.

 _Dear Viktor,_

 _Thank you for taking care of Deek. I was terribly worried when he did not return to me when expected. Do you have any idea of what could have attacked him? He's never been injured in a journey before. He may become grumpy, and if he does so, is usually plied best with breakfast sausage. Has your healer had a look at him?_

 _When you do arrive, I imagine you will be greeted with a bit of wonder. We've never had another school visit before, and many students will possibly treat you as a bit of a side show. As for hostility, when new students arrive in their first year, they are sorted into one of four houses, named after the school's original founders. There has always been a healthy amount of competition between the houses, but Gryffindor and Slytherin are the only two houses that have been known to become hostile in the past, and even then only with each other. I think you will be safe from any adversarial feelings, unless, of course, you are chosen to represent Durmstrang in the Tournament._

 _Wishing for a sooner Halloween,_

 _Charlotte_

"I assume you've finished your assignment, Ms. Wright?" murmured a quiet voice in Charlotte's ear.

She startled, causing a bit of ink from her quill to splash across her letter, and looked up to find Professor McGonagall leaning over her desk.

"Yes, ma'am," she said, handing the teacher her finished assignment.

"Very well," the older woman said, arching an eyebrow. Then, before she walked away, she muttered under her breath, "Viktor is a very lucky boy, my dear."

Charlotte felt her face start to heat and hoped she wasn't as red as she felt.

"Thank you, professor."

After her Transfiguration class, Charlotte had her assigned lunch period, and was free for the rest of day. With no homework to complete over the first weekend, she stowed her books in her bedroom, and changed out of her uniform. In pants and boots more suited to the rain that seemed to be imminent, Charlotte gathered her cloak, wand and small backpack, and headed outside to the greenhouses.

Greenhouse Eight was used exclusively to grow herbs and ingredients for Madame Pomfrey in the castle's hospital, and was usually left undisturbed by other students. Professor Sprout knew that Charlotte frequented the greenhouse, but the Ravenclaw didn't know if the teacher knew for what purpose. As usual, Greenhouse Eight was unlocked, so Charlotte set her bag down on a bench, and pulled out several pieces of sheet music.

A quick and simple spell, and the greenhouse was soundproofed; another and an invisible orchestra began to read from the sheet music, pausing whenever Charlotte cracked a note from lack of practice or missed a cue. By the time dinner rolled around, Charlotte had sung herself hoarse, and was forced to seek Madame Pomfrey herself for a soothing potion.

* * *

 _Saturday, September 3rd_

"Hey," Ada said, plopping down at the breakfast table next to Charlotte.

"Morning," Charlotte mumbled around her toast.

"So McGonagall posted a notice in the common rooms this morning: there's going to be a shopping expedition to Diagon Alley this afternoon for people to find masks and robes for the Halloween Ball. Do you want to go?"

"I don't have a gown, so I suppose I need to."

"Good! Cause I signed us up to go. We're leaving from Hogsmead at noon."

"I'll be ready," Charlotte said, rolling her eyes at Ada's antics.

"What else do you have planned for the morning?" Ada asked. "Practice?"

"I practiced after lunch yesterday, out in the greenhouse."

"How's it coming along?"

"Okay, I guess," Charlotte shrugged.

"What arrangement did you pick? Is it something I'll know?"

"Probably not. _Think of Me_ is Christine's signature solo piece, and I feel like everyone who wants the part will pick that one. I'd like to do _All I Ask of You_ , but it's a duet."

"So what have you been practicing?"

" _Think of Me_."

"She has to have other songs," Ada insisted. "Why do you have to even do one of her songs?"

"That's just how it's done, Ada. I have to prove, beyond a doubt, that I have the vocal range for Christine, and that only happens by singing the songs _written for Christine_."

"So what are some of her other songs?"

"She only has two solos in the whole play, everything else is sung with a partner."

"Okay, so if _Think of Me_ is one of them, What's the other?"

"It's called _Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again_. It's an ode to her father that's passed away," Charlotte said quietly, eyes focused on her plate.

"I'm sorry," Ada said, before forcing the conversation long. "So, _Think of Me_ it is. We can stop in that little music shop you like and see if they have anything good."

"That sounds good."

* * *

"Come on, Ada, or we'll miss the trip," Charlotte scolded her friend who was lazily trudging down the hall towards the door.

"We won't miss it," Ada said.

"Hurry up anyway."

Once they were both out in the muggy September air, they set a rather quick pace towards the Three Broom Sticks. Once there, they'd floo to Diagon Alley with Professor McGonagall as their chaperone.

"What kind of dress do you want?" Ada asked.

"A pretty one," Charlotte said.

Ada scoffed.

"I've never bought a formal gown before," Charlotte reasoned. "I don't really know what to look for."

"Well, I do," Ada said, "and I'll make sure you get something gorgeous."

Ada's father was a muggle lawyer who worked for a very large company, and as such, Ada had spent many a train ride to school lamenting over the wasted summer potential spent on formal parties and dinners attended with her father. Charlotte knew the events didn't really bother her, that Ada was glad to be able to spend time with her father, especially after her mother had left them, but Ada felt it was her daughterly duty to complain.

"I don't know how I'd survive without you," Charlotte said flatly.

"Me either."

"No, put that down. It's not your color," Ada commanded.

"I quite like the color, thank you," Charlotte said.

The two of them were in the third specialty robes shop in the span of only two hours, and Charlotte was quickly losing patience with the excursion. Ada, who had found her dress in the second shop, was doing her best to help Charlotte, but was also grating on the other girl's nerves.

"I think it'll make you look to yellow."

"The _dress_ is yellow."

"Exactly."

Charlotte had to push down the urge to kick Ada in the shin.

"Do you girls need any help?" asked a shop attendant. "What occasion are you shopping for?"

"Our school is hosting other schools for a formal ball," Ada told the woman. "I've found my gown, but we haven't had any luck for Charlotte."

"Hogwarts?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Alright, let's see what we can do," she said pleasantly. "What colors do you prefer?"

"I don't know that I have a preference," Charlotte said.

"It's a Halloween Ball," Ada added, "so darker colors would probably be best."

"A dark red would look lovely on you," the woman commented.

Charlotte squirmed a little.

"What?" Ada asked.

"The Durmstrang banner colors are red."

"Are you kidding me?" Ada said. "He already asked you? Did you say yes?"

"Would I be worried about the color of their dress uniforms if I hadn't?" Charlotte snapped.

"Alright," the attendant interrupts them. "So we have this straight. You have a date? And he's attending Durmstrang?"

"Yes, ma'am," Charlotte said.

"Durmstrang's formal uniform for summer, which is considered March through October, is black," the shop woman said. "So if the Ball is to take place Halloween night, they'll still be required to wear their summer formal uniforms. So a dark red would likely compliment your young man's attire."

"Oh, no he's not..." Charlotte tapered her sentence off at a look from Ada. "Yes ma'am. Dark red would be lovely."


	3. Chapter 3

_Wednesday, September 7th_

 _Charlotte,_

 _How have your classes been? Hogwarts begins its term on the first of September, yes? I imagine that our curriculum differ greatly, and am curious to how. Durmstang's professors concentrate on the Dark Arts, which is something I've never been fond of, but there has never been another option._

 _Deek continues to improve, though he is, a you put it, grumpy. He responds well to sausage, but seems to miss you fiercely. Our healer has done what he can, but whatever attacked Deek did a fair amount of damage. He favors one wing, and has yet to fly, but I have hope that he will improve. He and Orion get on splendidly when they are together._

 _Viktor_

Charlotte reread the letter for the second time, tapping the tip of her quill against a blank sheet of parchment. The library around her was quiet; only the occasional sound of a turned page and the scritch-scritch-scritch of a quill on paper interrupted her thoughts.

 _Viktor,_

 _Hogwarts students return to campus on September 1st, but classes do not begin until the following day. Weekends are usually spent class-free, as well as holidays. As an opposite of Durmstrang, Hogwarts offers no Dark Arts at all, but rather subjects such as Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration, and History of Magic. We do have a Defense Against the Dark Arts class, but it's rumored that the position is cursed as a professor hasn't lasted more than a year in decades. Some don't even last the whole year._

 _As it's no longer a required class after passing O. , I had elected not to continue taking it, but my Head of House, Professor Flitwick, insisted. I don't know to what end he hopes to achieve, but it's never been a class that's held my interest. This year's teacher is a Ministry auror, Alistair "Mad-Eye" Moody. I had my first class with him on Monday morning, and it was - I don't know if I have a good word for the man. He's terrifyingly paranoid, and makes no effort to conceal his disdain that we students aren't._

 _Deek can be difficult to deal with when he can't do what he wants to when he wants to. He's been that way since he hatched. He's a very independent bird, and I'm sure being unable to move about freely isn't helping. Thank you for taking such good care of him. He means the world to me._

 _Yours,_

 _Charlotte_

She folded her letter, charmed it, and packed her things. Sitting in the library, failing to study, was doing her no good, so she headed back to her dorm. She dropped her school bag on her bed, and kicked off her loafers, replacing them with a pair of mud boots that had seen better days, but would keep her from ruining her nice shoes in the owlry.

Orion, the poor thing, had been having trouble fitting in with the other birds, seeing as he was a goshawk, not an owl, so when Charlotte arrived in the tower where the birds slept, he leapt from his isolated spot, and descended onto her shoulder. She brushed her fingertips though the feathers on his breast, and in turn he spent a few moments preening through her dark hair.

"Thank you," she said when he was done. "Would you mind taking this to Viktor?"

Orion held out his talon so she could tie the dragon hide case around it.

"Stay safe," she whispered, and the bird took off.

* * *

 _Friday, October 30th_

"I'm going to be sick," Charlotte muttered.

"You're going to be fine," Ada said.

"I can't eat anything."

"How do you know? We haven't even sat down to supper yet. _They're not even here yet_."

The students had been gathered outside the Great Hall to welcome the incoming delegations from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, and Charlotte was finding it hard to fight off the chill of late October. Ada, incomplete contrast, didn't even seem to notice it was cold due to her excitement.

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!" called Dumbledore from one of the front rows.

"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

"There!" yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest.

Something large, much larger than a broomstick - or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks - was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely.

"Don't be stupid...it's a flying house!" yelled another boy.

That student's guess was closer...As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powder blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed - then, with an almighty crash that made Neville Longbottom jump backward onto a Slytherin fifth year's foot, the horses' hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

Charlotte and Ada had just time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then they saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage - a shoe the size of a child's sled - followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman Charlotte had ever seen in her life. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped.

As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face; large, black, liquid-looking eyes; and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.

Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman.

Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward towards Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dort," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore.

"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

Charlotte, whose attention had been focused completely upon Madame Maxime, now noticed that about a dozen boys and girls, all, by the look of them, in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. From what she could see of them (they were standing in Madame Maxime's enormous shadow), they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.

"As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," said Madame Maxime. "But ze 'orses -"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," said Dumbledore, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other - er - charges."

"My steeds require - er - forceful 'andling," said Madame Maxime, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. "Zey are very strong..."

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," said Dumbledore, smiling.

"Very well," said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

"It will be attended to," said Dumbledore, also bowing.

"Come," said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and Charlotte and Ada were pushed aside as the crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.

"How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?" Charlotte heard a Gryffondor boy ask.

"Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them," said another, whom Charlote recognized as Harry Potter. "That's if he hasn't been attacked by his skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?"

Ada took the pause in commotion to pull Charlotte in and wrap her under her cloak. Charlotte, who was shaking near uncontrollably, thanked her. They stood, shivering still, waiting for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky.

For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping. But then -

"Can you hear something?" said someone suddenly.

Charlotte listened; a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward them from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed...

"Viktor said Durmstrang is to arrive by ship," Charlotte said just before another student shouted.

"The lake!" yelled Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. "Look at the lake!"

From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they all had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water - except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks -and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor...  
What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool...and then Harry saw the rigging...

"It's a mast!" Harry Potter said in wonderment.

Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

People were disembarking; they could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship's portholes. All of them, Charlotte noticed, seemed to be built along the lines of giants or American linebackers...but then, as they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the entrance hall, she saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort: sleek and silver, like his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied. Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle they saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee (finishing in a small curl) did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he said, looking up at the castle and smiling; his teeth were rather yellow, and Charlotte noticed that his smile did not extend to his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd. "How good it is to be here, how good...Viktor, come along, into the warmth...you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold..."

Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students. As the boy passed, Charlotte caught a glimpse of a curved nose and stubbled, sharp jawline. She nearly squealed when Ada pinched her on the hip, and she turned from the Durmstrang students to shove her friend away from her.

"Charlotte," Ada said, clearly mesmerized by the student that had just passed them by. "That was _Viktor Krum_!"

* * *

As the students filed into the Hall behind their Durmstrang guests, Ada left Charlotte with a quick hug to join the Gryffindor table. Charlotte turned herself to Ravenclaw's table, and was surprised to find that the Beauxbatons students were hovering around the benches as if they were unsure where they were welcome to sit.

"You're more than welcome to join us," Charlotte told them quietly, taking a seat for herself.

Several of them glanced among themselves, but it seemed the decision was made when a young woman with silver blond hair and beautiful blue eyes smiled, and chose the seat in front of Charlotte. The rest of them found space between other students until the table was a combination of navy and periwinkle blue.

When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

The plates in front of them filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Charlotte had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign. Taking notice of her still squeamish stomach, Charlotte only sampled bread pudding and water, and hoped her nerves would settle.

"You are not 'ungry?" asked the Beauxbatons student that had sat in front of her.

"Sick to my stomach, I'm afraid," Charlotte said, a small smile at the corner of her lips.

"I am Fleur Delacour," the girl said, offering her hand across the table.

"Charlotte Wright," she said, clasping Fleur's surprisingly steady hand in her own.

"It is very nice to meet you, Charlotte."

"You as well, Fleur. I hope you enjoy your time here."

A student farther down the table, Charlotte could not tell if they belonged to Hogwarts for Beauxbatons, scoffed. Charlotte flushed, but Fleur's eyes cut to the perpetrator and silenced them with a heavy look.

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. Charlotte felt a slight thrill of excitement laced with dread, wondering what was coming.

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" - there was a smattering of polite applause - "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. His toothbrush mustache and severe parting looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; a Gryffindor boy actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways.. their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.


	4. Chapter 4

_Friday, October 30th (Cont.)_

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools at the stroke of midnight. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

Charlotte was even more glad that she hadn't eaten more than a few bites of bread pudding as her stomach flooded with dread. Viktor planned on entering the Tournament? What if he was actually chosen? What if he ended up just another name on the long list of deaths afforded to the Tournaments? She couldn't lose someone else, not so soon after Grandfather Atticus.

There was a commotion at the Gryffindor table behind her, but Charlotte paid it no mind. She made to leave the Great Hall, sliding through the crowd without having to think, but her footing was nearly lost when a group of boys brushed past her. Charlotte stumbled back, and, thankfully, someone caught her elbow before she could fall.

"Ostrowski," said a deep voice, "you should apologize."

Charlotte looked up into the face of the person that had caught her, and blushed when her green eyes met dark brown ones. Viktor Krum nodded to her gently, then focused on the other Durmstrang boy.

"I did not push her," the other boy said.

Viktor said something that, though Charlotte didn't speak Bulgarian, was probably very rude and threatening. The other boy scowled, but turned to Charlotte and spit out a crude, but ultimately polite, apology.

"Shove over, _pridurok_ ," a voice said, and Charlotte watched as Ada pushed through the group of Durmstrang students until she was at Charlotte's side. "You okay?"

Charlotte nodded.

"Come on, then," she said, reaching for the Ravenclaw's hand and pulling her away.

Charlotte turned to Viktor before Ada pulled her any farther and said, "Thank you."

She wasn't aware that his eyes followed her out of the Hall.

* * *

 _Saturday, October 31st_

"I'm going to throw up," Charlotte muttered.

Ada moved the pillow from the other girl's face just long enough to raise her eyebrows in a rather flat way before dropping the cushion back on her head.

"Get your arse out of bed, Wright," the Gryffindor demanded. "We have things to do."

"Like what? It's eight in the morning," she muttered from under the pillow.

"Firstly, we're going out to the greenhouses to get in an hour or so of rehearsal; it'll make you feel better. Then we've got long, hot baths to take, nails to paint, hair to tame. And lastly, you have a man to woo."

"Woo?" Charlotte asked incredulously.

"Woo," Ada repeated certainly.

"You're ridiculous."

"Always. Get up."

"I'm getting."

Half way through pulling on a pair of jeans, Charlotte paused.

"How did you get into the Ravenclaw dorms?"

"Bribed a fourth year."

* * *

A thick fog rolled in from the lake as Charlotte and Ada finished their breakfast, and Charlotte hoped it would pass without leaving behind any dampness. The atmosphere of the Great Hall was subdued, though the undercurrent of excitement that had been thriving since the announcement of the Tournament wasn't absent. Ada sat with Charlotte at the Ravenclaw table, watching some of the Beauxbatons students, and throwing out a flirtatious wink whenever one of them looked in her direction. Charlotte hummed around her toast, and tried to calm her nerves, though she wasn't very successful.

After breakfast, and dressed warmly in boots, pants, sweatshirts, and cloaks, Charlotte and Ada made their way across the grounds to Greenhouse Eight. The soil was damp as they left the gravel path, and passed the Beauxbatons carriage. Charlotte had the absent thought that none of them got caught in the mud.

"Charlotte! Excusez-moi, Charlotte!"

Charlotte and Ada both turned to see Fleur and another Beauxbatons student daintily making their way towards them.

"You know them?" Ada asked quietly.

"Fleur Delacour," Charlotte said. "We met last night at supper."

"Je vous remercie," Fleur said as she caught up to them. "We 'ad 'eard zeir was a town, but we ar', ah, lost."

"Retournez vers le Grand Hall, et de prendre la route principale loin du chateau. Hogsmead est a environ vingt minutes a pied avior traverse sous les portes."

Fleur looked surprised, but only momentarily.

"Vous parlez avec la grace d'un naturel. Merci pour les directions," she said, bobbing a small curtsy and ushering the other, younger girl to follow her.

"Au revoir," Charlotte called after them.

"Au revoir," the younger girl called back.

"Your French has certainly gotten better," Ada commented as they resumed their walk to the greenhouses.

"It was all Grandfather Atticus could speak, in the end," Charlotte said quietly.

"He'd be proud of you, you know?"

"You think?"

"Charlotte, a day didn't go by that that man wasn't proud of you."

* * *

Charlotte wasn't aware how much she would appreciate Ada's position as a prefect until they were both lounging in a steaming hot tub the size of a small lake in the fourth floor prefect's bathroom. The water smelled faintly of mint, and was doing its best to chip away at the frost that had sunken into her fingers and toes. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, letting the water cover her dark brown hair.

Ada had been right; getting in an hour of practice had relaxed her, and had taken her mind off of the Halloween Ball momentarily. But now that she was still, the doubts began to creep back in. How could she not be nervous when she would be meeting her best friend, other than Ada herself, for the first time ever? What if they didn't actually like each other? Or worse. What if he decided that he didn't like her, and refused to have anything to do with her? Viktor had been a solid staple in her life for the last five years, even if he hadn't been physically present

"Stop that," Ada said quietly. "I can feel you getting tense from over here."

Ada, who was sitting so low on her bench that she was in real danger of drowning, fluttered her eyes every few moments, fighting off the drowsiness that came with late morning. She had her hair pinned on top of her head to keep as much of it dry as possible, but it wasn't working very well.

"What if we don't like each other?" Charlotte whispered.

"You've been writing for five years. You've told him things you probably haven't told me. He's probably told you things his friends don't know either. You two know each other. What does it matter if you've never spoken?"

Charlotte sat up straighter, wet hair hanging limply around her shoulders.

"I tell you everything," she said a little desperately.

"I know."

"You're my best friend."

"I know..."

"Viktor's not a... a..."

"A replacement?" Ada asked, a little laugh under her words. "Charlotte, I know that. What you have with Viktor is different than what you and I have. That's not bad, just different. It doesn't make either of us more important than the other. You're my best friend, too, you know?"

"I do know."

"Then stop worrying. We're not going to stop being friends just because you fall in love with this boy."

"Love?" Charlotte all but yelped.

"Puh-lease," Ada said, standing up and stretching out of the water to snag her towel. "Tell me, right now, to my face, that you don't love this boy, at least a little bit."

"I... I don't have a solid answer for that."

"Thought so."

* * *

Supper that night was held a few hours early, and was an informal affair. Charlotte and Ada wandered through just long enough to make themselves sandwiches before heading back to the Ravenclaw common room to relax for just a bit longer before they had to be ready. The Ball, they had been told, would begin promptly at eight o'clock, and the Tournament Champions would be selected at midnight.

As Charlotte answered the riddle to open the common room door, the two of them heard a small commotion coming from one of the upstairs dorms. They both climbed the stairs to find Marietta Edgecomb being harried by a large, dark bird.

"Orion!" Charlotte commanded.

The bird turned from Marietta, and within a few wing beats was resting on Charlotte's shoulder. He screeched ominously at the other Ravenclaw student from his perch.

"What is going on in here?" Ada asked.

"That bird attacked me!" Marietta half-shouted.

"Seeing as Orion knows very well who is and who is not a dorm mate of mine," Charlotte said. "I have to ask what you were doing in here. Your room isn't even on this floor."

"I was just - "

"You were just telling the truth," Ada said, pulling her wand from her jeans pocket and brandishing it.

"I saw the bird leave the Durmstrang ship," Marietta said quickly. "I wanted to know who the letter was for."

"Me," Charlotte said simply. "Not that it's any of your business."

Marietta scowled.

"Don't you have a dress to be putting on?" Ada asked, taking a step forward.

Marietta flinched back, then scuttled around them and out of the door.

"Scavenger," Ada spat.

Charlotte ignored her; instead, she turned to running her fingers through Orion's breast feathers to try to calm him down. He huffed some, and turned to preen Charlotte's hair as she untied Viktor's dragon hide case from his talon. Unrolling the small piece of parchment, she read,

 _Charlotte,_

 _I would very much like to meet you in the entrance hall at eight o'clock if you are still willing to let me escort you to the Ball tonight._

 _Viktor_

"Well?" Ada asked.

Charlotte handed her the slip of parchment and headed towards her desk to pen a reply.

"Not very confident, is he?"

"I think he's just as nervous as I am."

 _Viktor,_

 _Eight o'clock cannot come soon enough._

 _Charlotte_

* * *

Seven o'clock came before Charlotte was ready. She had painted Ada's nails a bright blue to contrast her black gown; it sat off her shoulders and conformed to her body before flaring out at the knee. Her hair had been curled and coerced into a twist on the back of her head, leaving her sun bronzed shoulders on display. She wore no necklace, but had put in a pair of small diamond earrings her father had bought her a previous Christmas. She wore a slim bracelet to match.

In thanks for painting her nails, Ada made sure Charlotte's eyeliner was perfectly sharp. She charmed Charlotte's hair to keep it soft should the weather turn, but otherwise left it to its natural waves. Her dark brown hair was complemented by the wine red of her dress, and she wore a pair of pearl earrings. Her nails were painted a soft gold.

Charlotte fidgeted with the neckline of her dress, and tried not to focus on the fact that, while her chest was modestly covered, Ada had somehow managed to talk her into a backless dress. She took a deep breath, and didn't realize she was holding it until Ada bumped her shoulder.

"You do actually have to remember to breath," she said, setting a box on Charlotte's bed.

"What's that?"

"This is a present from Dad," she said, pulling the lid off. From inside she pulled an intricate gold filigree mask. It housed a few clear stones, and was taller on the right side; Charlotte suspected it would wrap around her face and settle in her hair.

"It's beautiful," Charlotte said.

"Thank you."

Ada set the mask aside and stuck her hand back in the box. She pulled out a second mask made of the same gold filigree, but of a different design. This one was even on both sides, and was dotted with the occasional pearl. She held it out to Charlotte.

"My dad says 'Happy Halloween'."

Charlotte took the mask reverently.

"He didn't have to do this," she said.

"My dad loves you. He thinks you're a good influence on me."

"I am a good influence on you," Charlotte chuckled. "Thank you."

"That's what friends are for."

Charlotte and Ada left the Ravenclaw dorm at quarter to eight, having fixed their masks to their faces with a simple charm. They passed several other students, all in formal robes and dresses and sporting their own masks, but no one stopped to speak with them. Charlotte silently thought it was because of the way Ada tended to stride with a singular purpose wherever she went, and people usually stepped out of her way.

They walked arm in arm until they reached the entrance hall doors. Charlotte felt her feet stumble, and Ada clasped her elbow to make sure she didn't fall or step on the hem of her dress.

"Are you okay?"

Charlotte shook her head. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!"

Ada led Charlotte away from the doors.

"I love you like you're my own sister," Ada said, "but you're being ridiculous. This boy sent you an owl not four hours ago to make sure you still wanted to meet him. He is waiting for you in that entrance hall, and maybe he's not going to be exactly what you've pictured, but no one ever is. I promise you he hasn't changed his mind. Have you?"

"No," Charlotte said after a deep breath. "Give me a moment. You go on ahead."

"If you aren't in there in ten minutes, I'm coming back to drag your arse in."

"Thank you," she said, a small smile at the corner of his lips.

Ada left her with a light pat on her shoulder. Charlotte took a deep breath and counted to ten before slowly releasing it like she had been taught to do in her music lessons. She wanted to meet Viktor, no matter how nervous her stomach was. So the question was: was she going to let something like a little fear stop her from doing something she had wanted to do for years?

No. The answer was no.

Charlotte pushed away from the wall and stepped around the doors before she could talk herself back out of it. The entrance hall was full of students from all three schools, but only a few of them wore the formal summer uniform assigned to Durmstrang. Several Durmstrang students lingered in twos and threes, watching as people came from their common rooms and the Beauxbatons carriage outside, but only one of them stood alone.

He was tall, taller than Charlotte herself and she was no goblin, with dark hair cut short. He wore a gold half mask, though Charlotte couldn't make out any fine details from the distance. His jaw was sharp, and his nose a little large, and when he turned towards the door and caught her eye, Charlotte realized exactly who she had been writing to for the last five years.

"Charlotte," he said, though there was a little hesitation in his voice.

"Viktor," she said, and there was no way to stop the smile that spread across her face.

Viktor smiled in response, and held his hand out to her. She took it, and let him wrap her arm in his. They turned to walk into the Great Hall, but Charlotte stopped them short.

"Charlotte?"

"I am very, very glad to meet you, Viktor Krum."

Viktor's mouth dropped open slightly in surprise.

"Why did you never tell me?"

Viktor's eyebrows furrowed, and he frowned.

"I vas never Viktor Krum to you. I vas only ever Viktor. All I ever vanted to be vas Viktor."

"Viktor is the only thing that matters," Charlotte said certainly. "Besides, you know how I feel about Quidditch."

Viktor's laughter followed them into the Great Hall.


	5. Chapter 5

_Saturday, October 31st (Cont.)_

Ada stood in the Great Hall among a mixed group of students, but when she spotted Charlotte on the arm of a Durmstrang student, she made her excuses, and broke away. She made her way to them slowly, watching how this new boy handled her best friend, and was pleasantly surprised that he seemed to be treating Charlotte like spun glass, like something precious.

She was almost to them when she was cut off. This new boy was taller than her, though that was no feat, and was wearing the Durmstrang uniform. She stopped short, and had to lean back to keep her face a respectable distance from his.

"Dance vith me."

It wasn't phrased as a question.

"No."

"It vasn't a question, krasiv," he said, a smug look twisting his face.

To anyone watching them, Ada's answering smile was absolutely viscous.

* * *

There was a small commotion as Charlotte and Viktor entered the Great Hall, and Viktor was prepared to ignore it until he saw that one of the people involved wore the same uniform as he did. He made to pull away from Charlotte, to put an end to trouble before it really began, but Charlotte put a hand on her arm to stop him.

"That girl he's mouthing off at is my best friend, Ada. It's best to stay out of the way of her spellwork when she's vexed."

"Kozkalov must learn to respect the other students," Viktor said quietly.

"Trust me," she assured him. "He's about to learn."

Viktor sighed, but, the truth was, he did trust Charlotte, so they stood to the side as Ada subtly hexed Kozkalov until his ears were twice the size of his head, and a swollen tongue lolled out of his head. Charlotte covered her mouth to smother a smile, and Viktor had to turn his head to hide his amusement. After Kozkalov had been ushered from the Great Hall by a concerned Madame Pomfrey, Ada strolled towards the couple, tucking her wand back into a hidden slit in her dress.

"You must be Viktor," Ada said. "Ada Fane. It's very nice to finally meet you."

"It is very nice to meet you as vell," Viktor said honestly.

"I won't hold - "

"Viktor," said a boy approaching them.

Ada gracefully slid between Viktor and the boy, smile bordering on vicious again.

"I," she said sweetly, "am going to tar and feather the next poor soul that interrupts me. Stay quiet until I have finished my conversation. Understand?"

The boy swallowed, wide eyed and paling, and nodded.

"Good." She turned back to Charlotte and Viktor. "I won't hold you here. You should go out and dance and have fun. Charlotte, I'll see you in a little while. I'm going to find someone to dance with myself. Viktor. Charlotte."

"Ada."

"Bye, Ada," Charlotte said.

Once she was gone, moving through the crowds of students, the Durmstrang student that had tried to speak to Viktor before cleared his throat and said,

"Karkaroff is looking for you, Viktor."

"Not tonight, Alexi," Viktor said. "He gave us the night off."

"But - "

"Tell him you could not find me."

"Viktor - "

"Goodbye, Alexi."

The other boy all but threw his hands up in the air before turning to leave them alone.

"What could that have been about?" Charlotte asked.

"I do not know, and I do not care, but vhat I do know is that I vould very much like to dance with you."

Charlotte looked up at him, felt this thumb move across her knuckles where he was still holding her hand between them, and nodded.

"I'd like that very much."

They only had to wait a moment for one dance to turn into another, and Viktor swept Charlotte onto the dance floor with a grace that surprised her. His footwork was steady, and he lead with a subtly that she would have been hard pressed to pick up on if she had actually known this song, but where her mind really lingered was on the way his hand sat on the bare skin of her back. It was a warm point that drove her to the point of distraction, and caused her to step on the hem of her gown.

"Bloody hell," she whispered as her balance wavered.

Viktor easily swept her to him to keep her from falling, and Charlotte may have remarked on how he didn't let her resume her slight distance, but she was reluctant to draw attention to it in case he let her go. She didn't want that. She wanted to keep his hand in hers, and... well. She wasn't quite sure what else. But she wanted it to happen.

After several songs in a row, the orchestra playing announced a short break, and Viktor led Charlotte away from the dance floor. By this time, they had garnered the attention of several Hogwarts students, male and female, wondering both who had managed to snag Viktor Krum as an escort on his second day visiting, and who the pretty girl with him was. Charlotte shied away from the attention, and nodded quite vigorously when Viktor suggested they escape into the gardens outside.

The gardens had been transformed from their usual beauty to something altogether ethereal. Lights twinkled dimly in the bushes and the short trees. Toadstools had been magicked to illuminate the gravel pathways through the short hedge maze. Several benches had been set out, though only one other was occupied, but Charlotte could not make out who it was in the darkness of the evening.

The air had moved on from the morning's chill to positively frosty, and in no time at all Charlotte was shivering in her backless dress, but was too distracted by the gardens. Viktor, in contrast, hadn't taken his eyes off of Charlotte, and noticed the very first shiver. He unclasped his cloak from the shoulder of his uniform, and draped it over her, hoping that the fur lining the inside would keep her warm enough. Charlotte startled slightly, but drew the cloak around her when she figured out what he had done, and turned to smile at him.

"Thank you."

"You are very velcome."

She reached for his hand and he stepped closer to her to take it, again sliding his thumb over her knuckles with a familiarity that did not speak of knowing each other face to face for only a few hours.

Viktor led them to a bench and waited to for Charlotte to sit before he did; if his feet ached just from his dress shoes, he could not imagine how Charlotte's felt. To his surprise though, when Charlotte shifted the hem of her dress away from the damp grass under them, Viktor spied a pair of practical, flat soled shoes. It appeared that her seemingly perfect height was just that: perfect. As they danced, Charlotte stood to just below his nose, causing them both to have to tip their heads to maintain eye contact. Viktor was used to being one of the tallest in a room, but Charlotte, despite the three inches between them, made him feel as if they were standing on equal footing.

When he had first seen her in the doorway of the entrance hall, Viktor had had the thought that she was quite beautiful, but he hadn't let himself hope that the young woman he had kept from falling the night before would be his Charlotte. But when she had said his name... Very few spoke his name with such familiarity, and he didn't quite think his own parents counted. She had been radiant in the candle light, as beautiful on the outside as she had already proven to be on the inside, and if he had needed another reason to adore her, it had been given when Charlotte smiled at him.

Viktor had expected to feel awkward for the entire night, especially with the way his stomach knotted and writhed, but it seemed that being with Charlotte was as easy as pouring out his heart into a letter addressed to her. She didn't bounce and titter over his prestige of playing for the national Bulgarian quidditch team as most people have; in fact, she didn't care for quidditch much at all, and that alone set her apart. No, Charlotte wasn't interested in his quidditch, or the notoriety that came with his name. She was interested in Viktor, and that... that was what mattered to him.

"It's very surreal," Charlotte said, "finally getting to meet you. We've been writing for so long, inches and inches of parchment, and now I can't think of a thing to say to you."

"You do not haff to say anything," Viktor said. "I did say we could pass notes."

Charlotte found herself laughing without thinking about it.

"I'm afraid I don't have any parchment on me at the moment. Talking will have to suffice."

"Tell me about your auditions," he said. "You are still auditioning, yes?"

"Yes," she said quietly. "Auditions are on December 3rd in London. Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick have already given me permission to attend, especially since I'll be seventeen by then."

"Professor Flitvick?"

"He's head of Ravenclaw House. He teaches Charms."

"And you haff been practicing?"

"You sound like Ada," Charlotte smiled. "Always making sure I make time, she is. Every afternoon in one of the greenhouses."

"You will do well," Viktor said confidently.

"How can you be so certain? You've never heard me sing."

"That is easily changed," he teased.

"No, thank you. Not here."

Charlotte turned her body so she could see Viktor's face more easily.

"I like this," she said, raising her hand to follow the edges of his mask with her fingertip.

Now that she had seen it up close, she could see the bars of music painted behind the gold edges that made up the masks shape.

"I thought you might."

Viktor reached up and slid the mask from his face, and, for the second time in as many days, Charlotte was close enough to see every detail of his face. His nose was rather large, and his jaw structured, and warm honey brown eyes sat under dark, heavy brows. Altogether, Viktor Krum was a very handsome man.

Charlotte slid her mask off just as Viktor did, and though the gold filigree did nothing to hid her identity, removing the mask made her feel more exposed. She wondered what he thought of her. She already knew that he enjoyed her company and her humor and her wit, but a small, irrational voice was whispering in the back of her head that none of that would matter if he didn't think she was pretty. A second voice, one that sounded suspiciously like Ada, told the first voice to shut the hell up, and Charlotte always knew to listed to Ada.

"How's your mother?" Charlotte asked. "Is she still doing good business?"

"She is," Viktor said. "She complains often that I am not around to help her anymore, and says that maybe she should haff a second son, one to live at home. My father leaves the room vhenever she says something so foolish, and I think that is the real reason she says these things."

Charlotte laughed.

"She asks after you often. I think she vorries, especially now that you are on your own," Viktor says quietly.

"That's very sweet of her. I," Charlotte hesitated, but Viktor did not push for her to continue her thought. "I am not well, in the light of things, but I will be, and I have plenty of things to keep me distracted until that time arrives."

"I promised you," Viktor said, pulled her that much closer so their shoulders pressed together, "that I would be happy to give you all that I can, should you ask."

"You are," she said, meeting his eye. "You are doing everything, just by being here."

She laid her head against his shoulder for a brief moment, then stood and straightened her skirts.

"It is nearly midnight," she said, "and I would like another dance before the night ends."

Viktor stood with her, and tucked her arm under his elbow.

"As you wish," he said, smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Halfway back to the castle, as they rounded a hedge, Charlotte and Viktor nearly collided with Professor McGonagall. She was dressed in green velvet robes, and her hair was tied back, though not as tightly as she kept it for lessons.

"There you two are!"

"I apologize," Viktor said with a slight bow. "We did not see you."

"It's quite alright, Mr..."

"Professor McGonagall," Charlotte said, "this is Viktor Krum; he attends Durmstrang. Viktor, Professor McGonagall is a teacher here at Hogwarts. She teaches Transfiguration, and is Head of Gryffindor House."

"Lovely to meet you," McGonagall said, and Viktor nodded, "but the selection ceremony is about to take place, and all those who entered their names must be in attendance."

"We were just headed back inside."

McGonagall nodded, and moved to the side of the pathway so she could follow them back to the Ball. As Charlotte and Viktor passed her, McGonagall caught Charlotte's eye, and, to her embarrassment, winked. It seemed that the good Professor had not forgotten catching Charlotte replying to Viktor's letter.

Back in the Great Hall, the orchestra had moved from the teacher's dais at the front of the room, and had been replaced by Dumbledore and the staff, the Goblet, Mr. Bagman, and Mr. Crouch. The students gathered around were eerily quiet, except for the occasional ruffling of robes. Charlotte and Viktor kept to the back, not wanting to push through the crowd; though, even from the back, Charlotte could see Durmstrang's headmaster, Karkaroff, eyeing both she and Viktor. His gaze made her want to shrink further under Viktor's cloak. Whatever movement she made must have told Viktor that she was still cold, but she didn't mind when he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" - he indicated the door behind the staff table - "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting...A few people kept checking their watches...

"Any second," Charlotte heard someone whisper.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it - the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

People in the Hall began to clap and cheer, but Charlotte felt like she couldn't breathe. Viktor had been chosen. Viktor was to face challenges that so many previous had perished before. She didn't realize how tightly she was gripping his hand until he turned to her, and raised her hand to kiss the knuckles he had been caressing all night. A different kind of murmur went out among the crowd as Viktor bowed her, and turned to walk through the crowd to the high table.

"Be careful," she whispered as she went.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the Goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

Charlotte didn't clap, too distracted by the previous announcement. Ada was making her way through the crowd, and clasped Charlotte's hand in hers when she reached her. As Ada whispered reassurances in Charlotte's ear, they both almost missed the third, and last, announcement.

The Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

The Hufflepuff student drowned out the rest of the students as they hollered and cheered. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real -"

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the Goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out -

"Harry Potter."

Ada gasped in horror, hand covering her mouth. There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry as he sat, frozen, in his seat.

Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly.

At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

Harry got to his feet, trod on the hem of his robes, and stumbled slightly. He set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. The buzzing grew louder and louder. After what seemed like an hour, he was right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the stares of all the teachers upon him.

"Well...through the door, Harry," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling.

* * *

 _Sunday, November 1st_

Charlotte dropped herself into a chair as the Hall cleared of students. Ada stood by her, waving away some of the more curious friends that had come to have a word, most likely about Viktor Krum. The teachers ushered students off to bed, but when the two were approached by Professor Flitwick, Ada stood her ground.

"To bed with you both," Flitwick said. "Merlin knows we've had enough excitement for the night."

Ada started to argue, but halted her words when Charlotte spoke softly.

"Professor Flitwick, Viktor Krum and I have been very close friends for a number of years, and I would very much like to speak to him when the judges are through giving the Champions their instructions."

Charlotte, who hardly made a fuss, or asked for things for herself, earned herself a curious eye.

"One o'clock, but no later," he said firmly. "Ms. Fane, you may keep her company as you are a prefect."

"Thank you, Professor," Ada said.

Ada sank into a chair next to Charlotte, and took her best friend's hand.

"Ventured out into the gardens, did you?" Ada asked wearily, gesturing to the Durmstrang cloak that Charlotte still wore around her shoulders.

Charlotte nodded. "Ada, what if - "

"No. There are no 'what if's. There is only what is, and the only thing for certain at this very moment is that Viktor has been chosen as the Durmstrang champion. The Ministry has worked all summer to design tasks that are difficult, not impossible, and none of them would approve something likely to get a student killed. Viktor is a capable wizard, and he will survive this."

Charlotte's only response was to grip Ada's hand tighter.

Though they feared having to wait for a time, in reality the Hall couldn't have been empty of other students for more than twenty minutes before the Champions reappeared. Madame Maxime and Fleur came first, both obviously upset by something, most likely Harry Potter's entrance into the Tournament. Viktor and Karkaroff came next. The older man tried to usher Viktor out of the castle, but when Charlotte stood and Viktor caught her eye, he pulled away from his headmaster. Ada gave Charlotte's hand one last squeeze, then headed towards the entrance hall to give the two of them some privacy. Karkaroff did not; he stood, waiting impatiently, right where Viktor had walked away from him. Charlotte paid him no mind.

"I know I told you I didn't want you to be Champion, but you know I'm behind you, right? I just... I don't..."

"You vorry," Viktor said, taking her hands in his.

"Yes."

"If I tell you not to vorry, you vill vorry more."

"Yes."

"Then I will not tell you such. Charlotte, the Tournament is meant to be dangerous, but not deadly."

"You're not telling me anything Ada hasn't already, but is it too much to ask that everyone I care for think about their own safety so I don't have to?"

Viktor smirked, and pulled her closer so that he could wrap his arms around her.

"I like knoving you vorry, if only," he said over her protests, "because it lets me know you care."

"Why else would I worry about you bunch of bloody idiots?" Charlotte said waspishly. "Promise me you're going to be careful."

"I promise," Viktor said seriously, "that I vill be careful. I do not mean to add to your vorry."

"I worry about everything," Charlotte sighed.

"I know vell. I vill see you in the morning. Breakfast?"

"I'll be up at seven."

"Vhy so early?" Viktor huffed.

Charlotte leaned away from him so she could look him in the eye and raise an eyebrow.

"I know very well that your classes begin at six-thirty in the morning, Viktor Krum. Don't talk to me about early."

Viktor smiled, and pulled her closer again, this time for a hug. Charlotte wrapped her arms around him, and did her best to affix well wishes and good intentions to him before it was too late. Viktor pulled away with a final smile that fell short of his eyes, and made to return to his headmaster.

"Viktor, your cloak," Charlotte said.

"Keep it until you are warm," he said, raising her hand to kiss her knuckles again.

He stepped back and bowed formally to her, which shouldn't have been as endearing as it was.

"Goodnight, Viktor."

"Goodnight, Charlotte."


	6. Chapter 6

_Sunday, November 1st_

Charlotte woke at six-thirty later that same morning like she did every other morning. She showered and she dressed in warm, muggle clothing, and wondered what would be on the table now they had international guests. What made this morning different was the number of female students gathered in the common room so early after such a late night. They sat in groups of twos and threes, and it took them a moment to spot Charlotte standing at the bottom of the stairs, but when they did, every eye was focused on her.

"Good morning?" she said hesitantly.

"Well, "said a fifth year, "tell us how you did it."

"Did what, exactly?" Charlotte asked, though she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"How did you get Viktor Krum to stick to you like a thistle all night last night?" someone asked.

"I bet she slipped him a love potion," another voice said.

"Excuse me?" Charlotte said.

"Is that it then? A love potion?"

"Viktor and I have been friends for years," Charlotte said, face heating as if she were blistering in the sun.

"I've never heard you talk about him before."

"Me either."

"Yes, you have," Charlotte said firmly. "The difference is that because you didn't know I was speaking of someone famous, you didn't care. I have talked about Viktor for years, but not one of you gave a bloody lick until you found out which Viktor it was."

"What's going on down here?" a sleepy voice asked from behind Charlotte.

Cho Chang stood on the stairs, still dressed in her pajamas and wiping the sleep from her eyes.

"Charlotte won't tell us how she got Viktor Krum to dance with her last night and ignore the rest of us."

"Viktor?" Cho asked. "The Viktor you've been writing to for the last four years?"

"Five," Charlotte said quietly.

"Well, then," Cho said. "There's your answer."

"That's not an answer at all!" someone insisted, but Charlotte was done with the conversation, and saw herself out of the common room.

* * *

Charlotte was absolutely fuming by the time she made it to the main part of the castle, and her face must have reflected how she felt because other students were quick to step out of her way. Additionally, as she rounded the doorway into the entrance hall, she plowed right into another person.

"We must stop meeting this way, Ms. Wright," Professor McGonagall tsked.

Charlotte couldn't even make her mouth form a proper reply, but she did manage an awful croak before she started to cry.

"Oh dear," McGonagall said softly. "Let's get you somewhere quiet."

McGonagall put her arm around Charlotte's shoulders, shrouding her under the long sleeves of her robes, and guided the distraught student back to the teacher's office. Once she sat Charlotte down in an armchair by the fireplace, she set about requesting a pot of tea from the house elves, and summoning Ada to her office. Charlotte, who had calmed since her initial outburst, was trying to dry her eyes on the sleeves of her sweater; McGonagall handed her a handkerchief instead.

"Are you alright, dear?"

Before Charlotte could answer, Ada burst into the room without knocking. She was still in her bed clothes, and looked as if she hadn't stopped to brush her hair, never mind find a pair of shoes. The frantic look that was etched onto her face melted into one of fury when she saw the condition Charlotte was in.

"What happened?" Ada asked, eerily calm.

"Ms. Wright was just about to tell me," McGonagall said quietly. "Have a seat, Ms. Fane."

Instead of taking the seat the head of house summoned for her, she shoved her way into Charlotte's armchair and wrapped her arms around her friend.

"You don't have to tell me, dear," McGonagall said, "but whatever it is is weighing on your mind."

"I got up this morning, and," Charlotte said, voice thick as she fought to keep her nose from running, "and some of the other Ravenclaw girls were waiting on me in the common room. They... they wanted to know how I had gotten Viktor to ignore them all, how I..."

"They think you spelled him?" Ada asked.

Charlotte nodded. Something nudged her elbow, and when she turned, she found a house elf silently offering her a cup of tea. She thanked him and took a long sip, even though it was nowhere near cool enough to drink.

"They asked if I had managed to slip him a love potion. They all... they all looked at me like I was something to scrape off the bottom of their shoes, like I was the reason he hadn't chosen one of them to dance with. I... I have schooled with these people for seven years, and they don't know me well enough to know I'd never do something like that? The way they hurled accusations, like it _must_ have been a love potion, because there was no other conceivable way for Viktor and I to have known each other, that it _must_ have been a potion because what else _could_ it have been? I'm nobody."

Charlotte said all of this to her tea cup.

Ada pulled Charlotte to her, and whispered, "You are not nobody. You are the kindest, cleverest, most talented soul I have ever known and I will spend the rest of our lives reminding you of that until you actually believe me."

Charlotte sobbed quietly, and hugged Ada back. If either girl had bothered to look at Professor McGonagall's face, they would have seen her mouth settle into a hard line and decide to do something about the situation.

* * *

After leaving McGonagall's office, Ada herded Charlotte to Gryffindor Tower, poured her another cup of tea in the common room, and left her there to rush through her morning routine. Though mostly empty, there was one person awake and sitting by the fire.

"Do you mind?" Charlotte asked, indicating a red velvet armchair.

"No, not at all."

Once she was sitting and could better see the face of the other person, she asked, "How are you this morning, Harry?"

"Fantastic," he said sarcastically without taking his eyes from the fire.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"Oh, no, I was too excited."

"Dear," Charlotte said, and it must have been the way her voice cracked because Harry's head spun to look at her, "only two kinds of people are going to believe you put your name in that Goblet: the mean ones, who will try to beat you down into the dust because their spirits are rotten; and the ones who don't have another explanation, the ones who don't have anything else to believe. They'll come around eventually."

"The same thing applies to you, you know," Ada said, appearing at the bottom of the stairs that led to the girls' dorms.

Charlotte dropped her eyes to her tea cup, and shrugged her shoulders.

"Great at giving advice, horrible at taking it for yourself," Ada said. "C'mon, let's go out to the greenhouses."

Charlotte stands and leaves her cup on a table for a house elf to collect and lets Ada shuffle her out the door. Halfway back to the entrance hall, Charlotte spies a Durmstang student and stops in her tracks.

"I was supposed to meet Viktor for breakfast," she says faintly.

"Bloody hell," Ada sighs.

"I'm sorry; I can't just leave him there."

"Of course not," Ada agreed, eyes roaming the entrance hall. Upon spotting a second year Gryffindor, she called, "Colin! Get over here!"

The small blonde boy looked around as if he couldn't decide Ada was talking to him, never mind that she called his name, before pointing at himself, and asking, "Me?"

"Yes, you," she said waving him over.

He shuffled over, eyeing her prefect's badge, and apparently expecting a scolding.

"Calm down. You're not in trouble."

The boy visibly relaxes. Until Ada tells him what she called him over for.

"I need you to take a message to someone."

"Uh, alright."

"Charlotte is very sorry she missed breakfast, but can be found down by the lake under the willow tree. Repeat that back to me."

"Charlotte is very sorry she missed breakfast, but can be found down by the lake under the willow tree. Repeat that back to me."

"Alright, smart arse. Think you got it?"

"Yeah, I got it. Who's the message for?"

"Viktor Krum. He'll be at the Slytherin table."

"Viktor Krum?! You want me to take a message to Viktor Krum?"

"Ten points if you can do it without asking for his autograph."

"Autograph's worth more than ten points," Colin said.

"Ten points and I won't turn you into Filch for the Wizbangs I know are under your bed."

Colin paled, and nodded "Deal."

"Off you go then. Message first, then points."

"I thought we were going to the greenhouses," Charlotte said after Colin was on his way.

"He can meet us at the lake, and then we can go to the greenhouses if you want, but he'd never find the right one on his own."

* * *

As soon as Charlotte has plopped down on the cold stone bench under the willow tree, Ada lays back on what's left of the dying grass, and demands,

"Sing me a song."

"What song?" Charlotte asks, rolling her eyes.

"That one with the pretty melody."

"You are so bloody difficult."

"The one about places and growing up."

" _Somewhere Only We Know_?"

"Yeah, that one."

* * *

Viktor was surprised when the younger Hogwarts student had brought him a message. He had been waiting for Charlotte in the Great Hall, and was starting to worry something was wrong when she had not appeared by half passed. As he made his way out of the entrance hall and across the grounds towards the lake, he could not help but wonder what could have held her up.

Along the lake's shore, just as he had been directed, there was a small copse of weeping willow trees that were vibrantly green against the dull greyness of the Scottish morning. As he grew closer, Viktor could hear a lovely melody being sung that almost stopped him in his tracks. The voice was light and airy, though quiet, as if meant for a private audience or the result of bashfulness, but was, none the less, pleasing to the ear.

* * *

"I love that song," Ada sighed when Charlotte finished.

"I know you do."

"It vas very lovely," said another voice.

Charlotte nearly jumped from the bench, but Ada merely rolled her head to the right and said,

"Good morning, Viktor."

"Good morning, Ada." He brushed some of the branches aside, and entered the small, seemingly private bubble the trees made, and smiled. "Good morning, Charlotte."

"Good morning, Viktor."

"You did not come to breakfast. You vere not hungry?" he asked, sitting beside her on the bench.

"That's my fault, I'm afraid," Ada said before Charlotte could try to stumble through an explanation that would most likely send her back into tears. "I indulged a little too heavily in the fire whiskey after the Ball last night, and Charlotte insisted on dragging me to the healer's this morning for a headache potion. By the time Madame Pomfrey was done expounding upon the evils of fire whiskey, neither of us wanted to brave the Great Hall."

"The teachers, they let you haff fire whiskey?"

Charlotte huffed a small laugh. "No one _lets_ Ada do anything."

"I'm of age, so as long as I'm not sharing it with those who aren't, like our dear Charlotte here, most eyes look in the other direction."

"What she means," Charlotte said, nudging Ada with her shoe, "is that she can't get in trouble if she doesn't get caught."

"That's what I said."

* * *

After a short half hour of chatter, Ada begged off to go and find herself another headache potion, leaving Charlotte and Viktor on the stone bench beneath the willow. Spared the wind by the branches, Charlotte was left shivering only occasionally. Viktor, dressed in casual clothes suited for much colder weather, used the opportunity to slide his arm around Charlotte's waist and draw her to him.

"What happened last night?" Charlotte asked. "After Harry Potter's name came out of the Goblet?"

"Karkaroff and the Beauxbatons's Headmistress are not happy," Viktor said. "They both believe that the Goblet vas spelled to give Hogwarts an extra Champion, but no one could figure out how he had put his name in the Goblet. Dumbledore said the age line vas faultless."

"The thing about Harry Potter," Charlotte said, laying her hand on Viktor's knee, "is that the boy has the worst luck in the world. His first year, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named attempted to return, and Harry, somehow, miraculously defeated him. In his second year, someone, we weren't told who, opened the Chamber of Secrets, and something started attacking students. Turns out, a first year Gryffindor girl had been given a cursed object that used to belong to You-Know-Who, and had had her mind scrambled. Harry, once again, came out the victor. His third year," she paused, "Do you remember when Sirius Black escaped Azkaban?"

"I do."

"It is a very poorly kept secret that Sirius Black is Harry Potter's godfather. He's had more trouble than a lifetime deserves, and I just cannot believe that he'd willingly put himself in harm's way, just for a little more glory. The rest of the world already knows his name, what more does he have to gain?"

Viktor said nothing for several moments, though his hand didn't cease caressing Charlotte's shoulder.

"I vill give him the benefit of doubt," Viktor said, "but only because you ask."

"You'll give him the benefit of the doubt because you're a good man, Viktor Krum."

* * *

"So when's the first task?" Ada asked as she joined Charlotte and Viktor at the Ravenclaw table for lunch.

"November twenty-fourth," Charlotte said.

"And it is?"

"It is meant to test our daring," Viktor said. "They vould not tell us."

"That's..."

"Worrying," Charlotte sighed.

"I was going to say rude. How do they expect you to survive if you aren't allowed to prepare?"

"Your Ministry vould not choose a task ve vere not prepared for, in some vay or another," Viktor said, squeezing Charlotte's knee under the table. "I vill be fine."

Ada leaned in a little closer so that only Charlotte and Viktor might hear her.

"To be honest, it's not you I'm really worried about; it's Potter."

* * *

"This has been a very pleasant Sunday," Viktor said quietly as he and Charlotte wandered aimlessly across the grounds.

"It has," Charlotte agreed, mouth turned up at the corners.

"There is only one thing, I think, that could make it better."

Charlotte pursed her lips in confusion.

"Come," Viktor said. "I vill show you."

He lead her across the grounds and towards the lake where Durmstrang's ship was docked. There, standing at the bow, was a figure Charlotte couldn't make out in the dark, but perched on its arm was a rather twitchy mess of feathers. The feathers lept from the figure and in a few quick wing beats, Charlotte was dashing forward to meet it.

"Deek!" she cried as the large bird came to perch on her shoulder. She ran her fingers through his feathers as he preened her with his beak. After the initial reunion settled down, Charlotte turned to Viktor, tears brimming in her eyes. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"It is my pleasure," Viktor said quietly. "Healer Orlovsky says maybe he should not fly too far for another few months, but that all else is vell."

"Viktor," Charlotte said, reaching out to take his hand. "Thank you. For everything."

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Hey, guys! Thanks so much for making it this far with me! Today's update will be the last until after the holidays, due to finals, family, and the actual holidays themselves. I just can't keep up! Charlotte and Viktor will return January 1st, 2017, and resume it's regular posting schedule. Happy Holidays!


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